


Towers

by Ray_the_Ravenous



Category: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Malik is confused, Masyaf, Sweet, pre-Solomon's Temple, shy boys, teen assassins, wandering at sunset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23923738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_the_Ravenous/pseuds/Ray_the_Ravenous
Summary: Malik seeks Altair up in the eagle's nest.
Relationships: Malik Al-Sayf/Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad
Comments: 5
Kudos: 83





	Towers

“Only fools and trouble come out to these parts at this hour”

Altair turned around, catching a glimpse of white robes. He smiled softly: he could recognize that voice in his sleep.

“In fact, here you are” he smirked.

Malik hummed in mocking agreement and sat down close to him. The warmth radiating from him, brought a soothing sensation through his limbs, tired after a full day of training.

The sun was setting over Masyaf Castle, painting it of a gorgeous golden hue. Sunset was Altair’s favorite part of the day: the world slowly getting ready to shut its eyes and the far cries of the eagles calling to their nests, preparing for the night.

It was his favorite part, also because he could spend these quiet moments by himself, far away from the rustling of the small town and from the inquisitive stares of its citizens. The only person, who was allowed to join him in the bliss of the last hours of the day, was sitting right next to him.

“Is this your new nest or something? You come here almost every evening” Malik asked in a snapping tone.

Altair did not answer, instead, he breathed a content sigh of the still summer air. He slumped back on his elbows relaxing in the tranquility of the moment.

Malik clutched his knees close to his chest, sighing.

“What’s been bothering you?” Altair asked in a soft-spoken voice.

“How do you even know something is bothering me?” Malik said, in an accusing tone.

“I think even a blind man could see your worry, Mal. It’s been quite obvious you know? Even Kadar noticed” He calmly answered, eyes still closed.

Malik didn’t answer. After a few moments of silence, Altair cracked an eye open and peeked at the other, who was staring very hard at the floor beneath them, as if he wanted to dig a hole in it with his eyes. He was clutching his robes in a desperate way, and a nerve-wracking silence was straining between the two of them.

“Why do you even care?” He said through gritted teeth.

“Why do you always assume I don’t care”.

“Because you don’t care for anything besides yourself”.

Altair kept staring at him, unfazed. Malik had this way of using words like knives, and was a master at doing so. However, Altair knew when those words actually meant harm or were just empty threats, aimed to scare people away. 

“Then why do you always come up here, if you know you’ll find me?” 

He asked, honest curiosity dripping from his voice. It seemed like a legitimate question after all: Malik seemed to not being able to stand him if not while they were sparring or clashing swords in the ring, since a month or so, and yet he kept coming to his hideout on one of the tallest towers of Masyaf. He once thought he could understand the other boy, one exception of the many other human beings that he could personally could not figure out, until recently.

He acted distant and angry, even a little confused when he was around Altair, and he was slowly starting to worry that he could lose the only friend he ever had.

“Allah knows I do” He sighed heavily. Altair kept staring at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

Malik opened his mouth as to say something, and then he closed it again. 

“Altair, I-“he started.

“It’s fine, Malik. You don’t have to explain yourself. God knows you ever do...” He sighed and sat up crossing his legs.

The summer breeze was blowing gently, softly caressing his face hidden under the white, pointed hood. 

He looked then at Malik’s face, marveling at how the remaining light of the day was painting his worried features: his deep black eyes were shining of a golden light, focusing on nothing and everything at the same time. He always admired the other boy’s clever mind, and he could not help but wonder what was nagging at his soul that was making him so snappy and grumpy. Surely Malik wasn’t exactly the most affectionate person, but he always reserved a reassuring smile for his little brother, or a playful smirk and a witty tease for him.

This thing was seriously starting to annoy Altair: he missed their banter, their races over the rooftops of the village and the hours spent daydreaming about how their first mission as journeymen will be. Obviously, in every single scenario they were together, as they could not imagine sharing that moment with anyone else. (Except sometimes, Malik thought that Kadar would be there too, much to Altair’s annoyance).

He realized he was still staring at Malik’s face when the other boy noticed, and quickly averted his gaze, blushing slightly, even if it was hard to tell in the sunset tinged light.

Altair frowned, annoyed, and turned his eyes to the landscape before him.

He was about to stand up and leave, but not after telling Malik to deal with whatever was bothering him on his damn own, when suddenly warm fingers touched his right hand.

He snapped his head and glanced at Malik, who was staring intently at their touching hands.

He had an expression of extreme seriousness and concentration as he slowly studied how their fingers intertwined together, testing with light pressure the clasp of their hands and how their skin brushed softly.

Altair kept staring mesmerized at Malik’s face, watching a display of emotions flashing on his face: first confusion, then anger and at last something akin to a fulfilling sense of realization. Then a soft crooked smile tugged at his lips: the first one Altair saw after almost a full month of frowns and pouts.

When Malik was finally satisfied of their joined hands, he looked up at Altair, in a desperate attempt to hold his gaze, failing spectacularly. 

Altair smiled and squeezed his hand softly. He was stunned at how natural the feeling of Malik’s hand on his felt.

Malik looked at him in disbelief and obvious relief, blushing furiously.

“Better?” Altair asked, grinning like a maniac.

“Oh, shut the hell up Novice” Malik said, looking out in the distance, trying to hide his reddening face with his other hand.

Altair laughed, an innocent sound, carried by a warm summer wind, over to the dying of the day.

\---------------------------------------

They stayed for hours on the top of that tower, even long after the sun had long settled under the horizon, laughing and joking. Hands still clasped together, the fear of a possible punishment for staying out late, far away from their happy minds.

They came down the tower eventually, and the morning after when the other novices asked where they were the night before, Malik was blushing like a little girl, signing to him promises of a gruesome death, if he were to tell, while a very confused Kadar was staring at him.

Altair, surrounded by a crowd of curious little boys, smiled like a lunatic and while staring right in the other boy’s eyes said:

“To fly with the mightiest eagle of Masyaf”.

**Author's Note:**

> My very first work! short and sweet, pure self indulgence.  
> Mind that english isn't my native language, sorry for any mistakes!


End file.
